


One Too Many

by DelwynCole



Category: White Collar
Genre: Community: comment_fic, Happy Ending, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 08:23:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelwynCole/pseuds/DelwynCole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just an ancient little piece of comment_fic for this prompt:<br/>White Collar, Peter/Neal/Elizabeth, sometimes he feels like he's the one too many<br/>found <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/comment_fic/106670.html?thread=23412910#t23412910">here</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	One Too Many

They’re beautiful, his wife and their lover. Neal and El fit together in ways that Peter had never anticipated when this whole crazy thing started. If anything, he’d thought it would be awkward, that Neal would see her as a substitute for Kate, or that he himself would guard them both jealously, possibly even that El wouldn’t want Neal as he did. It had all been senseless worry, despite some superficial similarities, El and Kate were nothing alike. Something in the way Neal touched her, told Peter that they weren’t sexually alike either. He’d felt no pull to keep them from each other, to keep them selfishly to himself. Indeed, their incredible beauty had led him to the opposite, to encouraging them to be together. And El, El was a free spirit. Peter rather thought she could love anyone, and he thought that she had loved Neal since the first day he had shown up on their doorstep unanounced.

But that lack of tension isn’t the only thing. They fit, really and truly. Months before they’d started this relationship, El and Neal had started going to galleries, the occasional film, and the opera without him. It had never bothered him, because he could think of so many things he’d rather do than go to the opera, things like root canals. Months before that, they’d started shopping together, and even earlier El had started using Neal as her designated taster for events.

They had their own language too, spoken in smiles, and raised eyebrows, and tilts of the head as well as obscure references to artists or fourteenth century French poets. They had inside jokes and shorthand that had taken him years to develop with either of them in just a few short months.

Sometimes he suspected they shared a brain. Peter had no doubt that either of them could give him a flawless list of things that the other would appreciate for Christmas, birthdays, or anniversaries. It would be organized by type of item from El, and by store from Neal, but it would be exact and complete. Neither of them would ever be that helpful though. They apparently thought they were teaching him something, by making him muddle through the process of figuring out what it was they really wanted from him with virtually no help from them. It was frustrating and infuriating, and utterly rewarding when he managed to do the right thing and he got those twin smiles of delight and pride beaming at him.

Lots of people would say that three is one too many for a relationship. Sometimes he feels like he’s the one too many.

Then something happens to remind him of why he’s there. Neal is injured, and without his steady hand to hold, El would be a complete wreck, and Neal was worse when that bout of flu hospitalized her for three days. He wasn’t sure that either of them would have survived without him around to reassure them, to bring them coffee, or to herd them off for food and a warm bed when it was necessary.

Neal was still Neal, even three years after the end of his prison term, seven years of essentially no law breaking, eleven if you don’t count the prison break. There were days when he was tempted by the things they saw every day, when it would be so very simple to just take what he wanted. If it were just El, he probably would have given in by now. They were a bad influence on each other in a lot of ways. The only reason, Peter mostly ignored all of the things that Neal taught to Elizabeth was that he needed to stay at the top of his game to remain useful to the bureau. he needed all of the new techniques, and the old. Teaching someone else was a great way to keep your own skills up. Hell, if he weren’t around, El and Neal could wreak havoc on the world that would put the exploits of Neal and Kate to shame. They needed his moral compass sometimes.

The thing that always most effective at convincing him that he wasn’t extraneous, was thankfully something he had on a fairly regular basis. Tonight was just one good example. Neal and El are asleep, curled together on the couch, looking far too innocent for either of them. He kneels next to them, and slides a hand up to tangle in El’s hair while he presses a gentle kiss against Neal’s temple. “Hey, you guys coming to bed?” El jerks awake and pushes herself upright almost immediately, and he’s glad that he learned long ago, not to tighten the grip on her hair, but let it slide between his fingers like silk.

“Yeah, sorry honey, we fell alseep.”

Neal wakes more slowly, an incredible show of trust for a young man who was not used to trusting anyone. His eyes slip open and then squint closed against the light, even as he allows Peter to pull him upright. “Time?”

“It’s after two, we might need you to come in tomorrow, Neal, sorry to cut your vacation short.”

Neal yawns. “’S’okay. Elizabeth has to work too, I’d just get bored.”

He ushers them both up the stairs, and the three of them get ready for bed. He lets himself be arranged in the center of the bed, by proprietary arms who seem quite certain that they know his proper place far better than he knows it himself. Finally, they’re snuggled up together. El is tucked up against his chest, her head under his chin. Neal is behind him, spooned against his back, one arm over his waist, under Peter’s own, fingers twined together and resting on Elizabeth’s chest. “’night Elizabeth,” comes Neal’s sleepy voice.

“Goodnight, Neal.” El replies. “Love you, honey.” She tilts her head up to press a kiss against his jaw.

“Yeah, love you, Peter.” Neal squeezes Peter’s fingers gently.

It’s not that he thinks they don’t love each other. They do, he sees it in their actions every day, but it’s their love for Peter that makes this work, and they both prove that to him everyday as well. So sometimes he feels like the one too many, and then he realizes that there isn’t one too many. What they have is just right.


End file.
